


mirrors

by Kierkegarden



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Child Soldiers, F/F, Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 18:26:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13641975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kierkegarden/pseuds/Kierkegarden
Summary: Ventress is younger than she appears at a distance or in motion.Ahsoka notices that she too, breathes.





	mirrors

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merfilly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/gifts).



> AU where Ahsoka was dueling Asajj when Dooku got the order to abandon her as his apprentice. Ahsoka was responsible for saving her life. Therefore, when the Ahsoka Framed arc rolls around, we have a different story entirely.
> 
> For Merfilly's prompt "a glimpse at how they come to see eachother"
> 
> (I blame my writing playlist for the phrase "take me with you" sneaking it's way into everything I write, thanks Andrew Bird)

At first, Ahsoka doesn’t notice the crinkle at the bridge of Asajj’s nose, how she bites her own lip when she misses on an upward swing. The first few times they meet, Asajj is no more than a cast of an enemy set with duracrete, albeit more beautiful and memorable than the other ones. 

Ahsoka doesn’t imagine those lips curled into a genuine smile, doesn’t think of her eating, or sleeping, or existing outside of the motion blur, red lightsabers rushing past her own green one. Context saves Ahsoka the trouble and Dooku’s assassin disappears when they’re not fighting. In those first few months of the war, Asajj is Ventress, her greyish white skin is duracrete and her smile is an unspoken threat. 

 

The Separatists are people. An uncomfortable, intrusive thought. It was easier when they were casts set in duracrete, Ahsoka thinks, longing for childhood or war in black and white. Within the Temple walls, Ahsoka learns compassion, balance, an innate regard for all things that move through the Force. On the battlefield, Ahsoka pushes Ventress from her body with such ferocity that her head knocks against the wall and her eyes droop closed. 

For no reason at all, Ahsoka decides to get a better look. The tattoos that corner soft full lips - left slightly ajar in her unconscious state - give the illusion of an expression far more menacing. 

Ventress is younger than she appears at a distance or in motion. 

Ahsoka notices that she too, breathes. 

“Ahsoka, down!” Ahsoka spins at Rex’s voice, readying her saber. Her eyes go wide as she scrambles away from the incoming shrapnel, the explosion reverberating through her entire being. Ventress’s body lies limp in its path. Did Dooku forget that she was here too or was that just another sacrifice? 

In a split second decision, Ahsoka drags the assassin's body to her ship and speaks of it to no one. She wonders if she also looks older when she’s fighting. 

 

There are no mirrors in a battlefield, but in the dusty lower levels, Ahsoka’s face reflects in every puddle, on the shiny metal siding of buildings. She pulls her hood closer around her face, eyes darting frantically. When Ahsoka imagines someone finding her, she images a young woman, eyes bright and full of hope. 

“I’ve got her!” the idealist smiles proudly in her mind, because capturing a galactic war criminal is cause for celebration.

For some reason, Ahsoka imagines the one who turns her in as a togruta, and her own face behind bars always falls into that characteristic Ventress pout.

She has learned to stomach that some of her enemies are good people. They have families and jobs, dreams and hopes. The second truth comes harder; that some of her allies are not. 

 

She is only half surprised when she sees another mirror in Asajj’s eyes, when the helmet comes off.  

She almost laughs. It’s funny because she’s the togruta and Asajj has her entire forearm in that tight victorious grip. It’s not funny at all. Those eyes have been betrayed too many times.

 

“I know Dooku tried to have you killed,” Ahsoka’s voice hard with resolve, “I know he betrayed you.”

“I know that you saved my life,” Asajj snarls, “If you tell me why, I might just save yours.”

 

They sit across from each other on the dingy bed of an unlikely motel, under fake names. Asajj’s face is as soft close up as Ahsoka remembers it, albeit far more expressive. Ahsoka shakes her head, smiling an uncertain smile. 

“Why were you framed?” is met by “Why did he abandon you?” 

Neither has an answer. Neither needs one.

Hands seek bottles of Twi’lek liquor.

Arms seek arms, legs tangle legs, war breeds loneliness.

 

“Take me with you,” Ahsoka sighs the next morning, without opening her eyes, “On your next bounty hunting assignment, take me with you.”

“I thought you said you were still a Jedi,” Asajj smirks, “Have you decided they don’t deserve you?” 

She’s drinking shitty caf in a disposable cup and shovelling bits of crumbling wheat cake into her mouth. It’s the first time Ahsoka has ever seen her eat. She notices the crinkle at the bridge of her nose when she smiles.

“Nobody deserves anything,” Ahsoka props herself up on her forearms, and laughs, because that’s war in its simplest terms. “I’m using my sabbatical as a learning opportunity.”

“You relied on them to give you purpose.”

Asajj says it as a statement, but it lacks the edge of an accusation. 

“So did you.”

The Force has two sides after all, and each has its own special prison. Asajj looks at her with recognition: a mirror, a friend. 

“Let’s get you a helmet,” she says, after a time, “We can leave tomorrow, if you’d like.”


End file.
